The Many Failed Proposals of Harry James Potter
by zipple
Summary: Harry realized pretty quickly he wanted to marry Ginny. Ginny wasn't so sure. Sometimes we fanfic authors have to get sappy. It's in our contract. No warnings unless you count a silly piece of canon-compliant fluff and Harry being an idiot.


Harry James Potter was like his father in a lot of ways. Most pointed to the black, stubborn hair and the glasses. Teachers tended to point to the rule-breaking and those who had seen either one in shorts pointed to the knobby knees. But if there was one great similarity between the two of them, it was that once they had an idea in their head, there was no way sway them, especially when it came to women.

The first marriage proposal happened at precisely 10:02 am on May 4th, 1998. It would have happened on May 3rd, the day after the final battle that ultimately killed Voldemort, but Harry had spent most of it sleeping. Harry was feeling downright jolly. Now that he was a free man, now that he had a life instead of a prophecy. He could do anything, be anything, have-

He walked down from his old dormitory to the common room. It was largely empty, except for a few refugees. He saw Ginny on the sofa, looking longingly into the fireplace and he felt his heart sink. That's right. Fred. He walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. She jumped, but relaxed when she saw it was Harry. She gave him a weak smile and faced the fire again, letting him stay.

He leaned forward to her ear. He meant to give condolences, to ask how she was doing, but instead popped out "Will you marry me?"

Ginny turned, her brown eyes wide and unblinking. Harry tried to release his hands from her shoulders, but found he couldn't and didn't want to. His heart was beating out of control suddenly and his mouth went dry. He wanted very badly for her to say 'yes' even though he never seriously thought of marriage before.

When Ginny opened her mouth, Harry's breath caught. She was going to yell, tell him to bugger off, hex him to little tiny pieces. She was going to-

Laugh. Ginny was laughing. She laughed so hard she rolled out from under Harry's hands, onto the cushions of the sofa and finally rolled onto the floor. She gripped her stomach, heaving. Every attempt to get under control was swiftly met with a look at Harry, and then she was off again.

Harry stood dumbfounded but quickly found himself rather offended.

"I'm sorry," Ginny said as she hiccoughed and wiped her eyes. "But it's so silly!" She at least had the sense to look a bit ashamed of her behavior. "I mean, we dated for a few weeks almost a year ago, we haven't seen each other for months. We just finished defeating You-Know-Who." She shook her head gently. "And we're too young! I'm not of age and we're not ready for marriage! There's a lot that needs to come before that! I'm sorry, but I have to say 'no'."

Harry blushed, then felt his face drain. He stomped off to the boy's dorm and let the door slam behind him.

"HARRY!" Ginny called. "I said I'm sorry!"

* * *

Harry had a good, long sulk. Well, actually he beat his head on the wall for a few minutes saying 'STUPID!' over and over until he felt dizzy and then laid down on the bed to think it over.

Ok, so it wasn't a bright idea. If he had been thinking logically to begin with, it would have occurred to him that they were too young, that their relationship was mostly puppy love that was halted before it could really develop into anything more.

But the impulsive, stupid side of him said that he had spent the last seven years of his life expecting to die, that now he had freedom he wanted to spend his life being happy. And Ginny made him happy. He had kissed Ginny on impulse and it worked out. He survived by the skin of his teeth by impulses, he saved lives by impulse. What harm could an impulsive marriage do?

* * *

The second proposal came over year later. Harry thought he had considered the pro's and con's of marriage before jumping in (he tended to favor the 'pro' arguments fanatically) and it never occurred to him that not marrying Ginny was an option. She had just graduated from Hogwarts, they were both of age, they were dating and sexually active. They were monogamous. They weren't living together, mostly because Molly would give Harry the Bellatrix treatment if she found out. Any free time they had (though there was precious little of it) was spent together and they got on pretty well. The puppy love from 6th year had quickly grown into a more tender, loving relationship. There had been a few arguments, but they got through those.

Harry gripped the box in his pocket. This night would be perfect. There would be candle-light, romantic music, wine, flowers, all the things birds liked. He had selected the ring with Hermione's help, so he felt confident that he wouldn't be going in completely blind.

As Ginny worked her way through her lasagna, prattling on about George's new inventions, Harry fidgeted helplessly in his chair. Now that he had time to think about it, now that he had to think about saying the words, his mouth turned to mush. Oh it would never work! She would laugh again, he knew she would! Or what if she broke up with him, told him to bugger off, that there was another man? What if it was a muggle? What if-

"Harry, are you ok?" Ginny said. She placed her fork on her plate, which was clean except for a smear of sauce. Harry looked down on his plate. He had not even touched his meal. Bugger.

"I'm uh- I'm ok, er-" he squirmed, feeling his face heat up. He groped his pocket, panicked, then realized the ring was on the other side. He bent down, struggling with the damn thing which was stubbornly refusing to come out. "Why does this thing have to be so bloody difficult?" He finally worked it free, but his grip was weak. The box went sailing, landing on the floor by Ginny's feet.

They stared at the box for a long time. It should have been a simple move. Stand up, grab the box, kneel, propose. All he would have to do is stand- Come on, Harry. First step is to stand. You know how to do that. Sta-

Ginny bent forward. She picked up the box and sat back. "Harry, what is this?" she asked.

Harry opened his mouth, but nothing came out. For the love of Merlin, Potter. Four little words. Four little sodding words!

Ginny opened the box, gave a little gasp and looked at Harry with those brilliant eyes of hers. Harry felt himself gasping for air, like a fish on land. Maybe he wouldn't have to ask at all. Maybe she would rush into Harry's arms and scream 'YES! A THOUSAND TIMES YES!' and all he would have to worry about now would be a tux and getting smothered by Molly.

But no, Ginny put the box down on the table and stared at it. "Harry- I-"

"Please say yes," Harry found himself saying. And it seemed once he started talking the floodgates opened. He found himself babbling about buying a home and how much they had grown over the past year and how he may still be fresh out of his first year of Auror's training, but he had his inheritance and they could make it work and-

Ginny bit her lip, listening to Harry babble. He could tell by the look on her face that she was far from convinced but if he just kept talking, kept coming up with reasons why this was a good idea, then maybe- just maybe-

"Harry," she said sadly. Harry watched in horror as she closed the box and scooted it back to him. "Remember those try-outs that I did a few weeks ago?"

"For Puddlemere? But you said you didn't make the cut."

"Well, yes. But there was a Holyhead Harpies recruiter there and they offered me a spot on the team and I just can't pass up that kind of offer." She reached over and took Harry's hand. It took all the strength he had not to pull away. "And you just got started with the Auror department. We have a lot on our plate right now. How can we possibly think about getting married?"

"That's just it! I've thought about it! I'm done thinking about it!" Harry grabbed Ginny's hand. "I love you, I know we'll be together for life so why wait? Why not get married? So what if we don't have much time to ourselves or if we're busy starting our careers? Am I bad in bed? Is that it? I can change that! Whatever you want to try! Is it Grimmauld Place? We don't have to live here! I can sell it and we can move wherever you want! Just please! Marry me!"

"You're hurting me!" Ginny said.

"I could never hurt you!"

"Let go of my hand!"

"Oh!" Harry released his grip.

Ginny clenched and unclenched her fist, flexing blood back into her fingers. "That's very sweet, Harry. But I'm just not ready to settle down." She looked at his face and gave a sad look. She got up from the table, sending her plate to the sink with a flick of her wand. "I better go," and with that, went out into the hall to retrieve her coat. "I'll send a message with Pig later," she called and with that she disapparated with a 'POP!'

Harry sat limply in his chair for several moments. He glanced over at the pot rack to his left and noted in the reflection of the stock pot that yes, his expression truly did look as pathetic as he felt. "Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! STUPID!" he exclaimed to the empty dining room, then launched his face at the table in an effort to smack it senseless, completely forgetting his untouched lasagna until it was too late.

* * *

"Ginny, will you-"

"No."

* * *

"Would you do me the honor of-"

"No."

* * *

"Don't you get tired of being called 'Weasley'? Ginerva Molly Potter sounds much better."

"No."

* * *

"Ginny, would you-"

"No, Harry. For the hundredth time, no!"

"I was going to ask for the pepper, but fine, keep it if you want it so badly."

"Oh. Here you go."

"Thanks. Will you marry me? Hey! It was a joke! Come back!"

* * *

Harry sat in his favorite chair, looking out at the rain. It was calming and something he remembered doing quite a lot during his teenage years, mostly when he was moping. Now it just seemed like a bloody waste of time. He was so focused on the rain that he didn't notice Ginny coming home. The 'thump' of a duffle bag pulled Harry's attention from the window.

"Hello," Harry said in mild surprise. "What's all this then?"

"My Quidditch gear. It needs a wash."

Harry nodded, he got up to greet her. "Don't the elves normally do the wash for the team?"

"Yes, but I wanted to do it. There's some mending they'll take off my pay if I don't bring them back pristine."

"Bring them back? Why?"

Ginny shrugged. "I quit the team," she said as casually as stating the weather.

"You did? Why?"

"Sit down, Harry," Ginny said gravely. Her tone was so tentative that Harry didn't dare refuse her. He resumed his place in his favorite chair while Ginny pulled the ottoman to his feet and sat down facing him.

"I've come to realize that I can't play Quidditch all my life and frankly, I don't want to. Not that it's bad, I still love it, but I don't want to spend forever riding on a broomstick through rain and ice chasing after enchanted balls and getting the snot beaten out of me from 300 feet up. I'm applying for a journalist job at the Prophet. The hours are consistent, the pay is good. I figure with the extra salary we would be able- Oh." Ginny scrubbed her hand across her face. She appeared to be in deep thought for a moment, and when she removed her hand there was a faint trace of a tear.

"Ginny?"

"I'm ok," she said. She fiddled with her robes. "I just don't know how to go about it, that's all." After a moment she produced a small, velvet bag and thrust it into Harry's hand. "Open it."

Harry was more than a little confused. He loosened the string and dumped the contents into hand. On his open palm laid a gold ring, a small row of rubies crested over the top.

"Harry James Potter-" Ginny said in a much different way than she normally used when she used his full name. "Will you marry me?"

Harry stared at the ring, blinking. Then a warmth spread over him. In tingled from under the cold metal of the ring to the tips of his toes to the roots of his hair. The floor seemed to be on the move.

It wasn't until Ginny was grabbing him by the shoulders that he realized how dizzy he was, but he wasn't fainting, he was floating. Ginny wasn't just grabbing his shoulders, she was hugging him, kissing him frantically. Then it dawned on him, he remembered. He had whispered a faint and awed 'Yes.'

* * *

Harry laid in bed, grinning stupidly at the ceiling. He lifted his hand, admiring the ring. It was beautiful, but Ginny could have given him a pile of ogre droppings with roughly the same result. They were engaged after years of asking (ok, begging). Ginny was lying next to him, petting his chest in the aftermath of their very active love-making. He would miss the Quidditch-toned body, but it was a fair trade since he got Ginny.

He sighed contently, threading his fingers through Ginny's hair. He looked over at her lovingly. "What made you change your mind?" he asked.

"I love you and I meant what I said about not wanting to play Quidditch forever," she replied. "It's time that we settle down, start our lives together properly."

Harry hummed contently. He placed a kiss on the crown of her head.

"Harry?"

"Uh huh?"

"I'm afraid I haven't been completely honest," Ginny said in a slightly guilty tone. "I didn't just quit Quidditch to work for the Prophet."

Harry stilled. Ginny was too much of a Weasley to have her conscience weigh too heavily on her for anything. That was part of why she was such a good match for Harry, he blamed himself enough for the both of them. So this could not be good. His mind raced with too many possibilities at once, but he couldn't think of anything that made sense. Or course, fainting was not the correct response for what she said next, but there was no help for it.

"Harry," she said after a heart-stopping moment. "I'm pregnant."


End file.
